


without you this dream would feel so empty

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Autumn, Fluff, Kissing on a blanket, M/M, cheese and crackers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 07:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: David tells Patrick that they are going on a hike—the first one they both know about ahead of time. He packs backpacks for them, curates a playlist for the drive, and plans a surprise for when they arrive:





	without you this dream would feel so empty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missgeevious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgeevious/gifts).

> Prompt from missgeevious. 
> 
> Title from Coloring Outside the Lines by MisterWives.
> 
> I'm not sure this makes much sense but on re-read, I actually really liked it anyways. So here! Happy Fall!

“David this is definitely not the way to the trail up to Rattlesnake Point,” Patrick insisted, peering out the passenger window at the vibrant colors of fall. David was driving them, allegedly, to try another hike—this time when they were both _ aware_—but Patrick was starting to get… suspicious. David cited the recently crisped fall temperature as the perfect reason to ‘get outside and enjoy the fresh air’—which. Now that Patrick was thinking about it… _ also _ very suspicious. He had never heard David talk about fresh air in the years they’d known each other. 

They were going in almost the opposite direction of the trail to the scenic overlook where Patrick had proposed—they were heading away from the mountain and towards the Creek. 

Ignoring Patrick, David turned up the music he’d selected for their trip, asking Patrick the night before about what kind of music reminded him of _ fall afternoons on the trails_, to which Patrick responded, “John Denver,” just to see David squirm for a minute. It was moot anyway, because Patrick listened to NPR on his hikes, and David’s expression at _ that _ made Patrick laugh and kiss it right off his face. 

David took a right turn into a gravel parking lot that looked like a place teens went to fool around after dark. Since it was just about lunchtime, Patrick doubted that’s what David had in mind for their afternoon. David swung the car into a makeshift parking spot off to the side and stepped out with no explanation. “Come on,” he called, heading to the trunk to retrieve what Patrick assumed were backpacks filled with cheese and at least one bottle of zhampagne. Hopefully, David had remembered to pack cups that Patrick had forgotten on their first hike.

Patrick met David at the trunk and took the backpack he was handed; he also accepted the kiss David pressed to his cheek. “You’re gonna love it, Patrick, trust me. It’s just down this way,” David said, taking Patrick's hand and tugging him along. Patrick didn’t mention that this was definitely nowhere near Rattlesnake Point, and David didn’t offer up an explanation, simply meandered them along a grassy path down closer to the Creek. They had to watch where they were walking, some bigger twigs from a recent storm littered the path, and Patrick made a point to step on some particularly crunchy looking leaves as he weaved around the obstacles, holding on to David’s hand all the while. 

“Did we really need _ two _ backpacks? I mean, what are you keeping in these things?” Patrick teased.

David stopped and turned towards him, amused. “Shall I pretend to step on the tiniest thorn of all time and act like I stepped in a bear trap? Will that help your little reenactment skit?” 

Patrick grinned and ducked his head. “That’s a bit of a stretch, but, please, lead the way.” He swept his arm out in front of them just as a strong breeze rustled through the foliage around them. A few leaves swirled near them, a colorful one landing in David’s hair. Patrick reached up to gently retrieve it, careful not to knock a single hair out of place. It was far too early in the afternoon for David to be tolerant of any hair shenanigans. 

Mouth twisting into a half-smile, David pulled them the last few feet to a clearing that sloped down to the edge of the Creek. It was a lot greener than Patrick would have thought for this time of year, and he had to admit he was impressed. The water in the Creek was not as gross as he would have thought, given its… name, and there were rocks along the bank covered in moss that gave the area a romantic garden feel. Wildflowers holding on to the last days of warmth grew right up to the water on the other side of the creek, creating the illusion of privacy for the two of them.

There weren’t any other cars in the lot when they’d parked, and Patrick couldn’t see anyone around, or further up the trail they’d taken to get to their dreamy spot. 

“This looks suspiciously like the setting of a picnic in a romantic comedy…” He said, dropping his backpack by his feet. 

“Yes, Patrick, I tricked you,” David said loudly, taking off his own backpack and leaning down to rummage through it, whipping out a soft blanket to spread out next to them. “It’s not a hike, it’s a picnic. Don’t expect four gorgeous rings at the end, either.” 

Patrick stopped him before he went to get more supplies out, and pulled him closer, arms settling tight around his waist. David’s arms fell naturally around Patrick’s shoulders, and Patrick bit his lip against a rush of emotion at the thought that he and David fit together _ naturally_. 

He leaned in to kiss David then, soft and slow, shoulders relaxing as David sighed against his mouth as if he was nervous about his surprise not-hike. “David, this is beautiful. I love you,” Patrick murmured, kissing him again, tightening his arms around David’s waist. 

They kissed until David’s stomach grumbled and he pulled away, eyes darting to the backpacks. “I will need to eat at some point.”

After getting settled on the blanket, meats and cheeses and spreads in convenient little containers between them, David pulled out a thermos of what smelled like hot apple cider. It was one of Patrick’s camping thermoses, leak-proof and insulated, and the cider was still steaming when David poured it into paper cups for them to sip. 

Patrick blew gently into his cup before taking a small sip and immediately choking on the sting of alcohol that hit the back of his throat. He smacked his palm against his chest a few times. “It’s spiked,” David offered, voice high and innocent. 

“Yeah, I think I got that,” Patrick wheezed out. “Warn a guy, babe.”

Patrick watched as David leaned back on his hands, a plate of snacks resting in his lap, and turned his face towards the sky, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. David took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh, before blinking his eyes back open and turning to look over at Patrick. 

“What?” David asked, mouth twisting up. Patrick shook his head and popped a cheese and cracker combo into his mouth. 

“Nothing,” he said, mouth full and David scrunched his nose and turned back to his own food, sitting up properly to dig in. They ate in the relative quiet, save for the rippling of the creek and the distant buzzing of winged bugs in the more densely wooded area behind them. 

Eventually, they laid down, David tucked into Patrick’s side, the softer of the two backpacks under Patrick’s head for support. David traced mindless patterns over the front of Patrick’s _ dashing _ hoodie as Patrick hummed bits of random songs they both liked. David shivered in Patrick’s arms, despite being armed with an incredibly soft sweater and two cupfuls of their spiked hot cider. “Did you bring another blanket?” Patrick asked. “It is kind of chilly without the sun warming us.”

“Of course, honey,” David leaned up to kiss at Patrick’s jaw and sat up to pull another cozy blanket out of the other backpack, along with another container and two forks. He plucked at the front of Patrick’s hoodie, so Patrick sat up and let David wrap the extra blanket around their shoulders. 

“Thank you, David,” Patrick kissed his cheek, letting his lips linger to feel the flush spread along his skin. 

“I brought you a surprise.”

“Is it an engagement ring?”

“Hmm, you’re funny.” David rolled his eyes and peeled off the lid to reveal several slices of a loaf that looked suspiciously like pound cake. 

He and David have had _ several _ conversations about pound cake and its legitimacy as both a pastry and a dessert, and have never managed to come down on the same side—David denies it belongs in either category due to lack of sweetness (not a dessert) and dense structure (not a pastry) that pushed it into the bread family.

Patrick does not care either way, just knows he loves good pound cake because it reminds him of growing up. His mom makes a delicious iced lemon pound cake (which David still does not allow into either the dessert category or the pastry category) and it just makes him feel warm all over. Like a cozy blanket or a well-worn t-shirt—and he hasn’t had any since he moved to Schitt’s Creek. The “pound cake” they sometimes serve at the Cafe just _ does not _ look like anything he’d want to put in his mouth.

“I have scoured the land for this, honey. This is the best pound cake within 100 miles.”

Patrick peered into the container, gently poking a finger at one of the slices. It smelled amazing, at least, buttery and rich. “Is that your official opinion?” Patrick smirked, wondering if David had _ tried _ other cakes to come to the conclusion that this one was the best. He took another sip of his spiked cider, the flavor warming him against the brisk autumn breeze. He was starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol, and he could see it in the color high on David’s cheeks. 

“I asked our chocolate vendor if she knew where I could find a good pound cake and she didn’t hesitate before she gave me the name and number of a bakery in Elm Valley.”

Patrick scooted closer to David, eliminating what little space there was between them, and wrapped his arm behind David’s back to lean into him. He kissed the spot under David’s ear. “You went all the way to Elm Valley for pound cake? For me?” He asked softly. 

David turned to gaze at him adoringly, and Patrick felt himself match the expression. “Of course.” David leaned in to kiss Patrick’s nose and handed him the container before pulling another smaller one out of the backpack. David pulled off the lid to reveal whipped cream. 

“_Some people _ think that whipped cream qualifies this… hybrid disaster… as a dessert, so.” He waved the container in front of Patrick’s face, gold rings glinting in the half-hidden sunlight. Patrick swiped a finger through the cream and tasted it. It looked homemade— it wasn’t in a store-bought container.

“Did you get this from the Cafe?” Patrick asked, but he didn’t think so. This was way better than whatever they used at the Cafe. David looked smug. 

“Nope. I made it at Stevie’s.”

“You _ made _ this at Stevie’s.”

If possible, David looked even smugger. “Yeah, apparently whipped cream is basically just whipped cream.”

Patrick grinned. “Who knew?”

David scooped some topping onto one of the slices and then handed Patrick the fork. 

Patrick kissed him, off-center and mid-smile, lips soft and warm despite the chill in the air. David made a pleased noise against his mouth, still smiling into their kiss, a quiet giggle squeaking out between presses of lips. 

“Try it,” David said, pulling away and closing up the whipped cream to shove it back in the backpack. 

Patrick got an ideally ratioed portion of cake and whipped cream on his fork and, with one last glance at his fiance’s anticipatory look, he wrapped his lips around the bite. 

It was _ perfect_. 

Dense and moist, lightly sweet with the cool, thick whipped cream to complement. Delectable, and Patrick made a pleased sound as he chewed.

“I take it you like it?” David said teasingly, but he was clearly delighted, eyes crinkling at the sides to show his excitement. 

“David,” Patrick began, setting his fork down in the container. “It’s perfect. Thank you. This must have been very trying for you, given your aversion to pound cake.”

David squinched his face and nodded jerkily. “Yes, it _ was_, thank you for acknowledging, but fortunately I am a very generous person.”

“Generous enough to try it? This is an exceptionally good one, I’ve definitely had worse. I mean, it’s no Marcy Brewer—”

“—no never—”

“—but it’s definitely top five,” Patrick finished, getting another perfectly balanced bite on the fork and holding it up for David. David stared at him, eyes dancing with amusement, and took a nerve-steeling breath before part his lips to accept. Patrick purposely feinted the fork to the side a bit, just to smear some whipped cream on David’s top lip. His fiance glared at him but didn’t move to wipe it off, just chewed his bite thoughtfully, eyes fluttering for a moment as he swallowed, Adam’s apple dipping along the column of his throat. 

“It’s not the worst,” David admitted, and Patrick snapped his eyes back up to David’s, distracted as he was by his neck. He felt his stomach flip, being on the receiving end of a genuine smile from David Rose—wide and happy and dimpled. 

Patrick had to kiss him again, tongue sweeping out to catch the whipped cream on David’s lips, slipping into his mouth. He tasted as expected, like cake and cream and spiked apple cider, and Patrick put down their dessert to cup David’s cheek with his free hand. He felt David slide a hand over his hip, cool fingers tucking under Patrick’s hoodie to make him shiver. 

“Mmm,” he said against David’s mouth, brushing his fingertips into the short hair at David’s neck. David quirked an eyebrow at him, mouth twisted into a smirk. “Delicious.”

David huffed out a laugh, warm breath ghosting across Patrick’s cold cheek. “You talking to the pound cake?”

Shaking his head slowly, Patrick rubbed his nose against David’s, making him laugh and turn away, hand on Patrick’s hip squeezing a ticklish spot to make Patrick squirm. He darted forward to lick playfully at David’s lips, even though there was no more smeared whipped cream, and David pounced, kissing him and nipping at his bottom lip. David was such a _ good _ kisser, taking and taking and taking while Patrick just held on and _ let _ him. Let him shove his tongue into Patrick’s mouth, carving space for himself as Patrick trembled in his arms—from more than just the cool autumn air. Patrick pressed closer still, moaning softly, sucking on David’s tongue sliding his hand further up into his hair to tangle his fingers. 

Patrick finally pulled away when David shivered for the third time, letting David press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Maybe we should pack up? You’re freezing, babe.” He moved his hands back to David’s rosy cheeks and then pulled the blanket tighter around the two of them. “Do we have any more cider to warm us up for the walk back to the car?”

David blinked slowly, looking like he’d finished the cider all on his own, and nodded. “There should be some in the thermos still,” he whispered, leaning over to grab it and pour out the last of the cider into Patrick’s outstretched cup.

“We’ll share it,” Patrick said, drinking half in one long gulp before handing the remainder to David. “I do, after all, have a clean mouth.”

David hummed and raised the cup to his lips, eyes dancing over the rim. He paused, “I think we both know that’s not true, honey,” he teased, then downed the rest of it.

After they finished the cider and took a few more bites of the pound cake—Patrick smirked at David as he took his second and third and fourth bites while David glared at him and still maintained his earlier stance of, _ “It’s not the worst,”— _they filled up the backpacks and headed back to the car hand-in-hand. 

“You know, David, if I recall correctly, we _ did _ have a picnic after I asked you to marry me,” Patrick said, and he was trying to play dirty, because he knew how David reacted anytime they talked about the engagement. “Hike then picnic. So are we going on a hike now?”

“Honey,” David said, resting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders, petting them lightly. “I love you. But, get in the car.”


End file.
